She Used a Decoy
by FettsOnTop
Summary: Padmé knows who's trying to kill her. She knows about Kamino. She knows about Palpatine. The problem is getting other people to see the danger lurking under their noses. Luckily, she has help. Written for the Star Wars Rarepair Exchange.


Night on Coruscant was a festival of lights. Lights from advertisements, lights from passing speeders, lights from others rooms in other buildings.

Padmé kept her room dark, to serve the illusion that she'd gone to bed. She had, in a way. She had taken her bath and put on her nightdress and combed out her hair. Then she sat on the edge of her bed facing the window. Watching the festival of lights through the vertical bars of the blinds.

While she sat there she did a few breathing exercises and meditated on a few calming images. The lake country in Naboo. The sun shining on water. The way that fine sand felt sifting between her fingers. It helped. There were two Jedi outside her bedroom door. She couldn't afford to let her anxiety reach the point of projection.

Her comm, held tightly in her fist, vibrated. It was time.

She went to the window and touched the control panel. The bars vanished, and glass pane slid in. She resisted the impulse to lean out into the night and look around. He said he would be here.

And Jango Fett always kept his word.

She stepped back, rubbing her arms as the cool night air crept in. Her nightdress was too thin for this. She started to turn back toward the bed to fetch her robe, but she saw the twin flares of a jetpack, and then a man in sleek silver Mandalorian armor landed silently on the window ledge.

He closed the window behind him.

Padmé gestured at the astromech droid in the corner of the room, who blinked his indicator light at her. "I covered the cameras and Artoo is running a audio blocker."

Jango's helmeted head tipped in acknowledgement. "How did it go?"

"I did the best I could. Acting was never my best subject in school."

The bounty hunter lifted his hands and removed his helmet. The glow of the lights in the window caught his profile briefly before he turned to face her, his expression obscured by the shadows. "She betrayed you. You can still mourn her loss."

"Her last words were 'I failed you.'" Tears stung her eyes, but Padmé swallowed and raised her chin. "Do you think she knew?"

"If she did, then she was prepared to watch you die."

"There was a moment, when I told her to take my place...I just...Cordé was my friend. She must have believed she was doing the right thing."

"Possibly. Dooku can be very persuasive." Jango tucked his helmet under one arm and contemplated her for a moment in silence. "Insurrection is a bloody business, Padmé, More people will die before it's over."

"I know." She wrapped her arms around herself, still feeling cold. "Were you able to clear Captain Typho?"

The bounty hunter looked away and grimaced. "He went to the academy on a scholarship provided by Chancellor Palpatine's educational foundation."

"Oh, _fek_ me _._ "

Jango raised an eyebrow. "You've got a dirty mouth, for a Senator."

"You can't tell me you don't curse."

"I have a son. I have to watch what I say."

"How _is_ Boba?"

The corner of Jango's mouth pulled up into a wry smile. "It'll be nice to see him."

Jango Fett was a man known for many things. He was a bounty hunter and a former chieftain of the Mandalorian clans. And her friend Satine Kryze had warned her that he had a reputation for ruthlessness and brutal efficiency.

But Padmé could see how much he loved his son. It caught her by surprise, but it was a truth she couldn't deny. It was the main reason she had chosen to trust him, when she first learned of Palpatine's dark nature. She really believed Jango would do anything to make the galaxy safer for Boba.

"Tell me about the Jedi," he prompted.

"Oh yes, my protectors. The Chancellor _insisted_."

"On those two in particular?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure if it's because they're working for him, or if it's because we have a former connection. Anakin wanted to investigate the assassination at once, but Master Kenobi said it wasn't part of the council's orders." Her lips quirked upward. "Maybe Anakin was just trying to impress me. He's very eager to prove that he's no longer a little boy."

"Did you bring up Dooku?"

"Yes. And I was shut down immediately." Her lips pressed together in frustration. "They're completely blind."

Jango grunted in a way that suggested he wasn't surprised.

"If this goes as deep as you say, it will destroy the Republic's faith in the Jedi Order. No one will ever trust them again."

"Maybe the Republic would be more stable if we didn't rely on magic men with laser swords."

Padmé sighed. "Our best hope is to reveal Dooku as Darth Tyranus. But how do we lead them in that direction?"

"We might have try a more direct form of engagement."

"Such as?"

He lifted a gloved hand and touched her cheek, a gleam in his dark eyes. "You could scream for help."

Her pulse picked up. She raised her chin to let his fingers brush down the line of her throat, and her eyes closed as he bent his head to kiss her. This was another part of Jango Fett that had taken her by surprise.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, heedless of the cold, unyielding armor pressed against her body. His mouth was warm, and heat spread through her as she desperately sought that warmth. "You're not screaming," he said when they parted, a rough edge in his voice.

Her hand grasped his, and she pulled him wordlessly toward her bed.

"With two Jedi in the next room?"

"I don't _fekking_ care. I need this." She laid her palm against his cheek and traced the line of his jaw with her fingers. "If they can sense anything, they'll just think I'm masterbating."

A flash of white teeth betrayed Jango's amusement as he caught her hand. "I don't want to have my _kad_ cut off by a jealous boy with a lightsaber. I might need it again someday." He moved in so they were chest to chest and Padmé had to tip her head back to look up at him. "Go to bed," he said, his voice a deep rumble. He turned her hand and flattened her palm against her thigh, and she inhaled sharply as he guided it between her legs. "But don't go to sleep unsatisfied. I'll contact you tomorrow."

He moved in to kiss her again, his hand still over hers, the thin fabric of her nightdress caught between her thighs. She couldn't believe this. Her body was on fire and he was _leaving_. "Jango," she protested as he drew back.

"Another time," he said, raising his helmet to his head. "I promise. And then I'm going to teach you some new swear words."


End file.
